


The fair maiden and her unicorn

by jayeden



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayeden/pseuds/jayeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley dyes Meg's hair and she could have protested, were it not for her shredded vocal chords and the general lack of fucks to give.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The fair maiden and her unicorn

He does it when Meg is bleeding and her shattered bones are creaking. It's unexpected, like most things with Crowley are, with a hint of a sexual innuendo.

"You know, I've never quite liked dark haired women," he says and absent-mindedly rubs the ends of Meg's dark hair between a forefinger and a thumb. "How would you like, ah, a bit of change?"

As usual, Meg says nothing, mostly because she _can't_ (her carotid is pulsing hot blood on her neck, collarbones and shirt, the taste of metal strong and disgusting on her tongue) - - but also because Crowley usually doesn't even expect an answer to his erratic monologues.

"Yes, that's it." Crowley stands up after a moment. "Don't go anywhere. Not that you could, but, you know."

Soon after Crowley's depart, Meg loses track of the time. Minutes, hours, or maybe even a day could pass by while she awaits on the edge of consciousness, teetering more often closer to the fall from the peak than the safety of stable ground. The darkness is just starting to feel nice and comforting when Meg awakens to warm wetness on her scalp - - (oh, _blood_ , it must be _blood, everywhere_ ) - - and fingers brushing her neck, just where the hair is soft and new and stained with dried crimson.

"Rise and shine," Crowley hums and pours more water over her head (the water trickles down her throat, tickling the healing wounds on her bruised chest). "Wouldn't want you to sleep past your make-over."

While he towels her hair, Meg hates the colour already just for the sake of it, like she hates everything that Crowley is. Like she hates Hell, Heaven, Earth, the damn Winchesters who obviously don't give a crap about her (and it shouldn't hurt, it really shouldn't, because she should have forgotten how to feel heartache ages ago - - but it does and so she hates herself too) and at that moment she hates pretty much everything, but somewhere far, far under the broken bones and strained muscles, there is a dim light that she doesn't hate.

She always thought that unicorns were somehow tragically beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> It's weird to think that my first fic here has hints of a pairing that I don't even ship. Oh well, I started thinking about Meg's blonde hair and one of her lines in 8x17 in response to Dean's comment about her hair ("wasn't my idea, it was Crowley's and just another reason why I want to stab him in the face") and wondered how that went down. The result is this drabble.


End file.
